A cracked clock and a camping trip gone wrong. With all his friends dead Galen is empty, but when offered a chance to set it all right he jumps at the opportunity, the catch? He has 24 hours to save them all, or else.

Ooo something like Night World meets Aioni and 07 games. If you've ever seen Aioni or played a game by 07, you'll be like "oh I know where this is going." Also, it's totally dark by 6 in April, what do you mean that's scientifically inaccurate?

Also it's set in 2016 because why not? And it's all human ok... Well, mostly.

And Dalos is so intended to just take the fuck out of Ivan, he just, is.

A million shards of glass, the clock no longer ticks, its gears grind to a halt, and the comedy repeats itself.

The sun was beginning to set when they finally reached their destination. Eighteen kids all camping out in the forest a few miles from their town in celebration of one of their friend's birthday.

Birthday boy couldn't shake the grin from his face, nor could he shake an equally excited Keller from his arm. His name was Galen and that day he turned 19.

April the third, 2016, it was absolutely freezing and the sun was setting at little passed six in the afternoon, the clocks had been set backwards and these woods were known for being dangerous, but why the hell not, right?

Right?

The group divided themselves up, sitting around two campfires and breathing in the smell of smoke, nicotine and marshmellows dipped in chocolate.

"I suppose," he said, taking a drag from her cigarette, "she would've hated it anyway."

A few people chuckled in the group. In such a small town, it wasn't surprising that the children had all found someone, or been forced with, someone from around their own age. Galen was no exception, having found Keller the previous year when an upperclassman through a book at his head and Keller, who had witnessed the entire thing, beat him to a pulp. It turned out that upperclassman was Ash, and he was still the asshole he was a year ago.

Galen sipped on his drink, politely smiling at his friends because god there was a lot of them. The camp had split in half, half of them deciding to sleep in the forest to "enhance the experience" and the other half sleeping in a clearing near the edge of a cliff. It would kill you if you fell off, but Christ it was beautiful.

In their group, there was seven of them; Galen, Keller, Maggie, Dalos, surprisingly Ash, Iliana and James. In the other group the other 11; Rashel, Thierry, Hannah, Jez and Morgead, Quinn, Poppy, David, Eric, Thea, and Gillian.

As it approached 10pm, 3rd of the fourth month, 2016, the temperature rapidly dropped and they all prepared to go to sleep, besides Dalos who was trying to push his "Vodka will warm you up plus it's time for celebrating and, well, VODKAAA" theory on all of them, yet the only one that seemed to waver was Ash, who loved a good piss up with his Russian freak of a friend.

As it approached 11pm, 3rd of the fourth month, 2016, the ghost stories had broken out.

As it approached 11:30pm, the conversation steered towards murders. Most specifically, murders locally, and by 12:00, when the thin, quiet chimes of the town clock from far away chimed, they were all so freaked that when Poppy screamed because she heard a rustling in the treeline, the only way to calm her down was to send someone to go check.

"Ash, where are you going?" Keller asked, "first rule of survival, never check out the noises."

"Girl you watch too many horrors. C'mon, Dalos, we're gonna go find out what it is."

Dalos smiled, loosening the scarf around his neck – hey, it was cold, okay? – and stood up, following Ash into the forest, Poppy hesitated slightly, before bouncing up and running after them, eager to see herself.

And then there were four.

They sat in a circle, shivering and quiet, waiting for their friends to come back. Galen could still hear Ash talking loudly to a mostly silent Dalos and the noises of Poppy skipping after them.

That is until they couldn't be heard anymore.

Ash's voice didn't fade out, it cut off.

Then it all started.

Galen's legs ached, his left ankle screamed out in pain every time he put pressure on it and Keller's grip on his hand was sending his fingers numb. Somewhere along the way, they'd lost the others, but their screams still followed them.

The couple ran, desperate to reach the treeline, they could see the lights of the road from where they stood, but it was so dark, and so terrifying. Galen could hear pounding footsteps behind them.

It had been so weird, so surreal, a flash of red hair, a ripped scarf hanging off a tree, then screaming, running, losing the others and now making a dash for the road.

And they almost made it.

Everyone always hopes the protagonist will make it, and they always do, yet hope breeds misery and as Galen leapt over the metal barrier separating the road from the grass at the edge of the trees, he let go of Keller's hand and spun round in time to see her stumble and be dragged back into the forest. He turned around in time to see her screaming face, the horror in her eyes, and the shadows enveloping her.

And because he turned around, he didn't see the car before it hit him.

The light, it was so bright.

Galen opened his eyes.

April the third, 2017, happy birthday to me~.

It's a horrible feeling, having your birthday me a memory of how all of your friends died.

The boy dressed quickly, formal casual. He brushed his hair, cleaned his teeth and was out of the door without eating breakfast, grabbing flowers from the vase that they'd sat in since the night before and beginning the trip. On the bus, the looks were accusing, sympathetic, and his survivors guilt was at an all time high.

Galen filled the water bottle with water from the taps in the small graveyard house, and weaved through out the gravestones of his hometowns fallen. So many of them had died that night that they'd practically needed to use an entire plot of land to put them all in. Well, they would've had too if it wasn't for mass burial.

Mass burial, how disrespectful it is.

Galen wasn't there to lay flowers for all of them, just her. Just Keller. Sure, he loved his other friends, but he felt personally responsible for her death.

We have to run, don't let go on my hand, okay?

I promise.

Galen sat on the path next to the grave, brushing away dirt from the plaque and placing the flowers in the little pot imbedded into the ground, before soaking them in water.